


When we sat in silence

by ziasann



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: #KenmaShipWeek2020, Akaashi's pov, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coma, Day 6: Post-Timeskip or Angst, Fluff, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziasann/pseuds/ziasann
Summary: Akaashi used to enjoy watching Kenma sleep because he knew the other would wake up and smile at him.Now, no matter how much time Akaashi spent trailing the inhale and exhale of him, Kenma won’t wake up at all.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou & Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	When we sat in silence

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a month ago for the Kenma Ship Week. Akaken nation rise!

_'Cause I knew I was in love with you_

_When we sat in silence_

_(Silence, Before You Exit)_

* * *

Akaashi remembered his first impression of Kenma.

Dangerous, a threat to the team. 

Number five, a setter, and a second-year just like him.

Those cat-like eyes analyzing and fooling them all together at once, exploiting their weakness to the other team’s advantage…

He thought Kenma was just another person gifted with a brilliant mind among the sea of genius athletes he’d encountered during high school.

Yet now that they’re all past those measly rivalries in college, still spending time to babysit their former captains in form of a ‘ _hangout_ ’, Akaashi glanced at Kenma as Bokuto and Kuroo ran at the park like kids.

Kenma was fondly smiling at the two, an expression Akaashi rarely witnessed by how deadpan the other boy was. Akaashi had to re-evaluate his first impression of him.

Maybe there’s something more beneath those piercing gazes and strategic mind. 

* * *

“Hey, Akaashi, we’d be going now.” 

Bokuto’s hand gripped his shoulder as Kuroo also patted Kenma’s hair and leaned down to whisper something inaudible to the blonde’s ear. They said people under a coma may register other senses to their brains. It may even encourage them to wake up. 

Knowing Kenma, Akaashi’d beg to differ.

The door of the hospital room was shut with a thump. Throughout the course of Bokuto and Kuroo’s visit, Akaashi thought that may have been the loudest sound made since they entered.

After a year accompanying Kenma, also memorized by the doctors as Room No. 812 patient, who lied listlessly on the white sheets with no movement, the conversations between him and the guests died down. 

Even Kuroo and Bokuto who were obnoxiously noisy quietened in their succeeding visits. Pretending to be happy and optimistic over Kenma who couldn’t join them consciously anymore, was something they grew tired of too.

Akaashi watched the green light steadily recording the heartbeat of his lover. Always the monotonous rhythm of lines Akaashi can draw in his palm. 

The beeping and whirring of the medical apparatuses attached to support Kenma faded in the background as Akaashi focused on _him._

The lump in his throat made itself known again.

Kenma was thinner than ever, eyelids shut tight, his hair longer with no bleach. His lips were chapped and dry, Akaashi reminded himself to smudge some balm later.

Akaashi remembered observing Kenma as he sleeps, a simple memory he began to treasure. He used to enjoy it, Kenma so peaceful, the sunlight shining on his golden hair. Kenma would rub his eyes to reveal those lustrous irises and smile when he caught Akaashi staring.

They’d bask in the morning with no words, touches, and kisses as their language.

Akaashi used to enjoy watching Kenma sleep because he knew the other would wake up and smile at him.

Now, no matter how much time Akaashi spent trailing the inhale and exhale of _him,_ Kenma won’t wake up at all.

Kenma may never smile anymore.

Silence consumes the sterilized room, and Akaashi cries with no sound at all.

* * *

Akaashi supposed it was natural, with the way their group dynamics went, he’d spend more time with Kenma. 

He didn’t expect Kenma would be the first to ask.

Their group chat was filled with memes, courtesy to Kuroo and Bokuto. They send schedules of their free slots and new places to hang out around the prefecture. Akaashi appreciated their little updates too whenever someone is staying over at Starbucks to pass time, or at the library to study. Their universities were within walking distance, somehow.

There was a message in their group conversation, specifically from Kenma.

**Kenma:** **_need to buy a new game_ **

**Kuroo:** **_sorry can’t go. studying for quiz_ **

**Bokuto:** **_im in a practice, would love to hang out tho :(_ **

Akaashi got spare time, and he knew Kenma doesn’t do well with crowds of other buyers in line for the latest game as told by Kuroo once. He calculated the remaining hours he had before his next class as Akaashi received a private message.

**From: Kozume Kenma**

**_Ur free, right?_ **

He figured he had nothing to lose, so Akaashi sent _yes, meet u at the station_ , before completing his internal math. 

He had five hours to wait in line with this person.

* * *

The day the accident happened was like any normal day.

The deadline for submission of the manuscript the company was working on was due in two days and Akaashi had been filing overtime since a week ago.

Akaashi barely had the time to come home and change clothes. He greets his sleeping boyfriend who also pulled an all-nighter for games with a kiss and farewell, just to commute back to work. 

Another begrudging night and Akaashi walked to the office’s pantry in hopes of energizing himself. He poured the freshly made coffee in his mug and sipped, all sugar and cream have forgotten for the ounce of caffeine.

He unlocked his phone, checking for messages, the last text he received from Kenma was 4:56 PM and it was currently 9:08 PM. He typed in a _good luck with your game_ in their conversation thread but an incoming mail from Kuroo stopped him.

**From: Kuroo Tetsurou**

**_Kaashi!_ **

**_How’s the surprise? Kenma asked me twice for directions to get to your office. So thank me or else your boyfriend won’t arrive to cheer you up in another all-nighter! Btw, good luck too._ **

Akaashi wasn’t sure if his palpitation was due to the drink or the unsettling feeling he had as he read Kuroo’s text. His last conversation with Kenma was the blonde asking where he’d eat dinner, and Akaashi replied, working overtime at the office.

**To: Kuroo Tetsurou**

**_What do you mean? Kenma’s not here._ **

His breath caught as he hit send. The response was immediate, Akaashi was spared the impatience to wait.

**From: Kuroo Tetsurou**

**_Shit, he said he left your house three hours ago?_ **

His fingers were tapping his screen nonstop but were cut off with a call from an unknown number. The device vibrated in his palm and rang the typical tone. He shouldn’t be dealing with this but Akaashi reminded himself he was a professional. 

He picked up the call.

Quick and straight to the point. That’s how Akaashi always was. Minutes later, he fled the pantry room to grab his bag with an address in mind. Bidding as an emergency to his boss, Akaashi exited the building and hailed a taxi in the street.

Once he settled in the ride, Akaashi dialed Kuroo’s number.

“Kuroo, Kenma is in the hospital...” He hitched, “A car hit him and I-”

* * *

Akaashi had heard the best friendships arrived from those unexpected.

Accompanying Kenma alone did not stop at the first, definitely not in the seconds, nor thirds, and even the day where Akaashi was the one who invited the quiet presence arrived.

There wasn’t much to argue with the facts. Akaashi enjoyed Kenma’s solid company and conversations, and most of their free schedules aligned opposite with their two other friends because Fate deemed so. 

Kenma will bring his Nintendo Switch at Starbucks and Akaashi will bring a book of Dazai Osamu’s classic literature. Akaashi orders the coffee, one Chocolate Java Chip for Kenma and a Vanilla Cold Brew for him. Kenma reserved the corner couches as more university students filled in the shop. They’d sit and ask when the other’s next class will be, and Kenma will continue his saved progress of Fire Emblem as Akaashi reads his bookmarked page of No Longer Human.

Akaashi was used to loud people, like Bokuto and the rest of the Fukurodani team. Silence often meant awkwardness, anxiety, or some words hidden to be said.

With Kenma, however, Akaashi thought he didn’t mind the tranquil silence.

Kenma averted his concentration from his gadget to meet Akaashi’s obvious staring. Confusion riddled in those features, and Akaashi softly smiled at the sight of it. 

Kenma answered with a minuscule smile before going back to his game. 

There were no words exchanged as their knees bumped each other under the wooden table. The warm contact stayed on for hours until one of them left for a class.

* * *

Bokuto stayed in the hospital to watch over Kenma as Kuroo drove Akaashi back to the house - _their_ house filled with unfinished games and drafted stories. Akaashi needed to pack extra clothes so he could change for work from the hospital. 

If he’s not sleeping by Kenma’s side, he’s at the office working overtime. A few of his colleagues found out about his situation and were worried, but Akaashi deflected with assurance. An argument with Kuroo and Bokuto also broke out but after all the years their friendship survived, they knew Akaashi was stubborn for people he cared about.

Akaashi doubted anyone would want to sleep in this house anyway. Contrary to most tragic romance novels in the populace, the place he lived with Kenma before the incident, was clean and polished.

Kenma’s games were stacked in shelves below the books Akaashi owned. The consoles and gadgets were kept in Kenma’s cabinet and drawers, along with its chargers and accessories. Akaashi once tried playing a random cartridge, but couldn’t even reach the save point without tears blemishing the screen. He decided not to do it again, fearing he might break the device.

If a sales agent took a gander at this house, they’d photograph it and post in advertisements with the captions: a _n ideal home, a perfect place for you and your family._

They were on their way to build _that_. Maybe not specifically a family, but Akaashi saw a future with Kenma. They could have..they would surely have-

His forehead stung from the pain of crashing onto the kitchen’s door frame. His palm slapped his face, to ease the dull throbbing. He trudged onto the refrigerator, Akaashi asked himself again what he was supposed to check over the appliance. 

His vision blurred but he managed to focus on the worn written tissue pasted on the fridge before dizziness consumed him whole.

“ _Akaashi!_ ”

He was on the floor, propped up by his friend when he registered Kuroo was offering him a glass of water. He lapped the liquid with a thirst he wasn’t aware of, panting heavily afterward. 

"That's what Bokuto and I hate with you two," Kuroo sat on the floor with him, the arm supporting his back quivering. "You two take care of others the best but also the worst with yourselves."

“I should have eaten dinner with him that day. We recently got this house and I couldn’t stay much because of work. It’s my fault-”

“Stop that.” Kuroo hung his head low, “I knew he was going to surprise you. I grew up preventing him from bumping on the posts while we walked. I should have- _no_ , this is not helping.”

Akaashi would have been astonished by the strength of Kuroo’s grip on his shoulder, had he not diverted all his willpower to control the lump in his throat.

“Kenma loves you, Akaashi. Stop carrying this alone, Bokuto and I are here for you two.” 

The tissue with ink falls from the surface of the refrigerator. Akaashi caught it, reading Kenma’s penmanship of Dazai Osamu’s quote. As if it was evidence to prove Kuroo’s earlier words, a reminder of love which blossomed with the right time and care. 

"The doctor tells me it's better if I talk to him, to encourage him." He began, “What am I supposed to tell him, Kuroo?”

He clasped his hands over the treasured note, so it won’t be tarnished with tears. 

"I think you and Kenma...really got comfortable with the silence,” Kuroo explained and released to give Akaashi space. “Now that it's too quiet...it's... vulnerable to speak.”

Akaashi saw Kuroo lifting his head, and for the first time since the drive from the hospital, Akaashi finally met his stare. 

“But, try it, Akaashi, try talking to Kenma."

The last nail to the coffin was Kuroo’s next sentence.

" _Please_ , he told me he pretends to sleep just to hear you sing."

Akaashi pocketed the tissue of Kenma’s first note as he burst out in wails. He screams, he sobs, he cries like a child in the middle of the floor with one of his greatest friends. He bawled until Kuroo had to fetch another glass for his throat. 

It was tiring, but he felt his body lighter than before.

* * *

“You’re grinning, Akaashi.” Bokuto pointed out and Akaashi averted his eyes from the cute cat meme Kenma sent while grumping for his still ongoing class.

“ _Oho_ , is that Kenma?” Kuroo teased as he put down his tumbler. 

“I like him.” He blurted all of a sudden. His cheeks blushed furiously as he realized what he said. It sounded so natural, the internal struggle he had for weeks slipping from his lips as easy as that. 

“That’s honest, Akaashi!” Bokuto commented as Kuroo also replied, “Direct.” 

After picking an owl sticker with a Good Luck message, Akaashi turned off his phone to confront his close friends' jeering stares.

“You’re not surprised?” He queried, glancing at his phone’s notifications. No immediate reply, well, Kenma was attending classes. 

“Hmmmm, not really?” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows. “You two spend a hell lotta time together.”

“Besides, Kenma would rather spend time with his games rather than people,” Kuroo added.

“We don’t even speak much, I read books, he plays games.” Akaashi quickly interjected.

“Isn’t that much better?” Akaashi swore Kuroo’s eyes glinted. “Kenma’s the embodiment of _‘Ew, People’_ , you’re special, Akaashi!”

His two idiots for friends grinned as they gave each other a look. Akaashi felt the goosebumps trickling from his spine up to his nape. _This is not good._

“I think you two will be a great couple!” Bokuto exclaimed and he wished his fast heartbeat was from the coffee, not from the invasive idea of d-d-dating... _Kenma_. 

“You’re blushing again!” Kuroo laughed, “Why not confess?”

“I don’t want to ruin anything.” Akaashi sighed, he hoped he wasn’t missing a text from Kenma with this out of the blue interrogation. 

“Everything’s nice,” Akaashi splayed his hands in front of him, ready to do animated stuff to emphasize his stand. “We meet during vacant, we study together too. He plays, I read. He fell asleep on my shoulder, and that was cute I fell asleep too! When we woke up, his hands were under my jacket because he said he got really cold. We love each other’s company and I don’t want to ruin something great by asking him to date.”

“Wait, what did you just say?” Kuroo asked. Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“I don’t want to ruin something-”

“No, before that.”

“His hands were under my jacket?”

“God, Akaashi, you’re dense.” Kuroo laughed, to which Bokuto joined in. This was infuriating, Akaashi was sure he made valid points and his friends couldn’t understand him.

“You should confess, seriously, Akaashi. We’re not gonna tell you what’s up with Kenma...” Bokuto gestured his fingers, “…. _putting his hands under your jacket_ but if you’re worried about our friendship, we’re telling you, nothing’s gonna change after.”

“Kenma was only cold, okay? He touched my cheeks and his fingers were freezing!”

The two once again cackled in the coffee shop. Half of the customers gawked at their table, specifically the black and silver-haired dudes Akaashi did not want to associate with.

“D-dense, this level of dense and obliviousness, I cannot-” Kuroo howled, wiping a tear from his eye before dropping an ultimatum Akaashi couldn’t refuse.

“Confess. Or else Bokuto and I will always leave you two alone when we’re all hanging out.” Kuroo said, and Bokuto nodded.

Akaashi desperately wished he made better friends back in high school, but he was stuck with these two. Although, he wouldn’t have met Kenma if it wasn’t for Bokuto who were friends with Kuroo that time.

“With the way, Kenma’s moving, I doubt you’d confess first.”

They were right, of course. Kenma didn’t follow them at Starbucks because he had research with his groupmates. Akaashi had no face to show to Kenma after hours of Bokuto and Kuroo ‘teaching’ (scratch that, they were teasing!) him with 101 different ways to admit your feelings to your crush.

The next morning, Kenma messaged him to meet up the usual. Starbucks. 9:30 AM. Akaashi’s first class was at noon, and Kenma needed help with his elective.

When Kenma gave him his notebook for the lecture, there were no notes. Only a fresh brown tissue with a quote:

**_I had always imagined that the beauty of virginity was nothing more than the sweet, sentimental illusion of stupid poets, but it really is alive and present in this world._ **

His heart thumped wild. This was Dazai Osamu’s quote from No Longer Human. To others and strangers, they may find the quote quite brash. Akaashi knew better what the text implied, he knew what the next lines were.

Akaashi gaped at Kenma, jaw dropped slightly, his whole expression was of confusion. Kenma blushed pink as he asked.

“Can you write down the answer?” 

There was only one.

**_We would get married. In the spring we’d go together on bicycles to see waterfalls framed in green leaves._ **

When Akaashi placed down the ballpen, Kenma reached for his writing hand and clasped it. Kenma picked up the ballpen with his other hand and wrote underneath Akaashi’s note.

Akaashi smiled so big as he read Kenma’s next quote, the other’s cold fingers wrapped tightly around his. 

**_I made up my mind on the spot: it was a then-and-there decision, and I did not hesitate to steal the flower._ **

* * *

“Thank you, Bokuto.” Akaashi said as he chucked the paper bags with his fresh apparel on the patient’s closet. 

“That took long.” Bokuto flashed him a tired smile as Kuroo approached the silver-streaked man.

"They need to talk." Kuroo gestured to Akaashi and the sleeping Kenma.

"What-" 

Kuroo whispered something in the other’s ear and looked at Akaashi before nodding his head in approval.

"Oh, okay! We’ll eat an early dinner outside, Akaashi. Do you want anything?" Bokuto asked. 

“Cheeseburger, and maybe a liter of water.” He said and sat at the chair Bokuto occupied earlier before they returned. His two friends bidding goodbye and asked to text them if he wanted anything.

He couldn’t ask for any better friends in this world. 

Akaashi realized many things during the drive from their house back to the hospital. One, he has a lot of things to say to Kenma. Two, he needs to say it now. Three, he’s scared of the silence surrounding them in that hospital room.

Four, he has to face his fears more than ever. Kenma needs him too.

He grasped for Kenma’s vacant hand, the one not tubed with dextrose. It’s colder, icier than the temperature when Kenma first touched Akaashi’s cheeks to prove he was sensitive to the cold. 

He pulled those bony fingers close to his lips, breathing over in hopes of giving back the warmth Kenma selflessly provided him. 

"Kenma," Akaashi breathed long, "I..."

The beeping in the heart monitoring rate drags on, never once delaying rhythm. 

"We... _god_ , this is hard.” _Kenma needs this, you both need this._ “I remember our quiet days, we do our own stuff...play and read, read and play.”

Kenma laid unconscious, eyelids shut close. He was thin a year ago, but even so, he was alive. This Kenma...slept for too long, his skin paler and the bones protruding more than ever.

“We love every inch of it.” 

He kissed the fingers in his palm, tears blurring his vision.

“I miss kissing you,....and pillow your lap as you play.” He inhaled sharp, as a sob escaped. “I miss our coffee in the mornings, even when we barely speak. I miss making love to you, we're not that vocal but still.”

Akaashi was grateful for the privacy Kuroo and Bokuto gave them. If they heard him, Kuroo and Bokuto won’t leave him alone again. This confidence to speak out his thoughts, he couldn’t have managed it without them. Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kenma. The friendship which he never expected but grew to treasure it as more years passed. 

“We miss you. I miss you and I... _I love you_ ," Akaashi choked, the tears falling nonstop in his cheeks. His next words tumbling out of his lips, teeth chattering. 

“So much... _god_ , when you wake up, _please wake up_ , I'll tell all these things to you every day. I'll make up the silence we had, I'll fill it with everything just _please_ …”

Akaashi hunched over, his hands clasping Kenma’s like a prayer. He wished, and he wished, and he prayed. 

“Don't leave me."

* * *

Akaashi hums the lullaby he sings when he thinks Kenma’s asleep. He tried his best not to croak up the tune as he murmured the lyrics in Kenma’s hand.

Coldness gripped him. Akaashi's eyes widened. 

"Kenma?"

It's real. It's not imagination.

He squeezed Kenma's hand, and he felt Kenma squeezing back in return. A smile plastered on his face even when the tears wetted his chin and his hands. 

"Come back, love."

He continued singing, filling the silence until the moment he and Kenma could laugh together again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave kudos and comments below if you like it!  
> Follow my twitter account [@ziasann](https://twitter.com/ziasann) for more HQ memes and shenanigans.  
> Subscribe to my tumblr account [ziasann](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ziasann) for more HQ drabbles and stories.


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